


Wolves on the Street

by seimaisin



Series: The Devil Wears a Suit [2]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canonical Character Death, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seimaisin/pseuds/seimaisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern day AU - sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/569258">Smoke in the Distance</a>.</p><p>Grey Warden Bethany Hawke is back in Kirkwall. Unfortunately, so is the serial killer she pursued with Cullen nearly a year ago. Family drama takes a back seat to the investigation ... and to Bethany's burgeoning relationship with Cullen. But when the investigation crosses into her family life, Bethany must face her own deep-seated fears, and come to terms with an outcome that will change her life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to tklivory and cherith for beta services, and to everyone who read, commented on, or left kudos on Smoke in the Distance for encouraging me to keep going in this universe.
> 
> I'm aiming to update 1-2 times per week. The whole story should be 7-8 chapters.

_Bethany -_

_Are you home from Weisshaupt yet? I can’t remember when you said you’d be back in Ansburg. My inbox has been quiet since you’ve been away. Which probably says something about the state of my social life right now._

_Anyway. Before you ask, yes, I’m still going to the NA meetings. You remember the guy I thought was another former Templar? Well, he is. Nice guy - older than me, been around the meetings for years, apparently. He and I went out for a drink after the last meeting. It’s nice to have someone to talk to who understands. Lyrium is a different beast than a lot of other drugs. Most civilians don’t understand how it works. You don’t take it to make yourself feel good - you take it to make yourself feel safe. My new friend and I talked about that a lot the other night - safety, or the lack thereof._

_You know, every time we get a missing persons case that involves an older woman, I somehow think it’s related to our serial killer. I wish I didn’t. I’d rather think this guy has abandoned us, but that’s not really the way these things go, is it?_

_Drop me a note when you’ve got a minute, okay?_

_Cullen_

*

It was the second time in a year Cullen had been in Darktown with a mage at his back. He found himself longing for Bethany's company - which wasn't an uncommon occurrence in his everyday life, if he was honest with himself. But right now, he really missed her casual knowledge of the Darktown tunnels. If she'd been with them, they probably wouldn't have gotten lost three times.

Instead, though, he was accompanied by the First Enchanter of Kirkwall, who held a small vial in his hand. Orsino turned around slowly, closing his eyes before pointing toward a door at the far end of the corridor. "It's this way." 

"Are you sure?" Cullen couldn't keep the weariness from his voice.

"Phylacteries aren't an exact science. And Feynriel is ... different. His magic feels unfamiliar."

Cullen had heard that several times during the course of his investigation - that the boy they sought was "different," "special." The young Templar he'd talked to during his first visit to the Gallows said that Feynriel had a kind of magic he'd never seen before. But no one wanted to tell him exactly what kind of magic that was. Cullen could only hope it wasn't some kind of new, weird offensive magic, for his own sake. That's just what he needed, to get cursed or killed by a runaway teenaged mage.

He itched for lyrium. Had since the moment he realized he was working a magic case again. But, as he'd done at least a dozen times that day already, he pushed the thought out of his mind and concentrated on the task at hand. Before he worried about the boy's talents, they had to find him. The First Enchanter held the most reliable way of tracking him - Feynriel's phylactery, a vial of his blood enchanted to somehow track him wherever he went. In his own Templar training, Cullen had never ranked high enough to be privy to the knowledge of how phylacteries worked. He just knew they did work, and that they were necessary to keep mages in check. Like the one they sought, who was apparently dangerous enough to have the entire Gallows in an uproar over his disappearance.

The Templars usually kept cases of missing mages to themselves. Cullen would have never even heard of Feynriel if his mother hadn't come to him, in tears, begging the police to help find her son. He was pretty sure that the only reason the Knight-Commander didn't tell him to fuck off was because he was a former Templar. Whatever the reason, the whole thing had led him here, to Darktown, with an elf wearing a nice enough suit to make the natives look at them speculatively. "Maybe you should have dressed down," Cullen said.

"I didn't exactly expect to end up down here," Orsino countered.

They walked through the door Orsino had indicated. The good news was that they'd found Feynriel - a slender elven youth with a blonde ponytail and a sullen, but frightened look on his face. The bad news was that frightened look, caused by the three men who held guns, one of which was trained on Feynriel. "What do you two -"

Cullen didn't even have a chance to figure out which thug spoke; suddenly, all three were on the ground, writhing in agony. Feynriel just looked at Orsino with wide eyes. "Come on, boy," he said, not unkindly. "Let's go home."

The boy quickly left the room with them, but stopped when they were a short distance away. "I don't want to go back to the Gallows!"

"You have to," Cullen said. "Your mom signed the contract."

"I never wanted to go. She made me. I was going to go to the Dalish. Or Tevinter!"

"The Dalish don't like outsiders much, kid." They were a reclusive bunch who lived in a commune up on Sundermount. Cullen had never been up there, but the cops who did deal with the elves on a regular basis usually came back with stories of having to conduct their interviews just outside the gates of the compound, because the elves refused to let them in. "And Tevinter is never the right answer." Not with its uncontrolled magic and lack of oversight. 

"Not for you, anyway," Orsino said, more gently. "You need more help with your talents."

"Like you can help me? None of you have ever even seen anyone like me before!"

"Can we have this conversation when we're out of here?" Cullen asked. "I don't want to give those guys time to recover. By the way," he asked Feynriel, as he grabbed the boy's arm, "who were your friends?"

"They were from Tevinter. They were going to take me there."

"At gunpoint?"

Feynriel scowled and refused to respond. Cullen just sighed and pulled him along. When they got to a place where he had cell service again, he called in for some uniforms to come pick the thugs up. "They won't be moving for a while," Orsino promised. "Trust me."

The boy didn't speak the whole way back to the Gallows. When they arrived, a pair of Templars came and swept Feynriel away to parts unknown. "You know," he said to Orsino, "I don't know why you even had me along. You could have handled that yourself."

"I had no idea what I was going to find, or where the phylactery was going to lead me. Having a police officer with me was extra insurance. Besides," he said, sighing, "the Knight-Commander doesn't precisely trust any of us to wander the streets alone. I know you're a former Templar - you were probably considered a good substitute guard."

"Guarding mages stopped being my job a long time ago."

"Tell that to Meredith."

Cullen might have mentioned it, had he been able to find the Knight-Commander. But she wasn't in her office, and none of the Templars he ran across were able to tell him where she'd gone. "It's not worth it," he muttered under his breath. Feynriel was back at the Gallows, where he belonged, and Cullen owed the boy's mother a visit to tell her the whole ordeal was over. 

When he returned to the precinct later that afternoon, he didn't make it as far as his office before he was accosted. "Hey, Lieutenant," Brennan called from her cubicle. "Captain Vallen is looking for you."

He detoured to the Captain's office; she was on the phone, but motioned for him to sit down. "No, Knight-Commander, I entirely agree. Yes, he just came in right now. I'll discuss it with him, and we'll get back to you tomorrow."

When she hung up, Cullen raised an eyebrow. "I was just at the Gallows, you know."

"I wish I'd known, I would have called you. So, you found the boy?"

Cullen nodded. "He'd fallen in with guys who were probably slave traffickers from Tevinter. I had some uniforms pick them up for questioning."

"Good." She leaned back in her chair. "Sorry to send you back over there so soon, but the Knight-Commander has asked a favor."

"A favor from me?"

"Yes, of a sort." Captain Vallen sighed. "Do you remember talking to a Templar named Emeric?"

"Emeric?" Cullen blinked. "Yes, he was involved with the case you sent Be - Agent Hawke to work with me on."

If the Captain noticed his near slip, she didn't acknowledge it. "Well, apparently Emeric is making a lot of noise about that case again. The Knight-Commander says he's been harassing a man he thinks is responsible for the disappearances. She's had to issue an apology, which is obviously sticking in her craw. Emeric won't listen to anyone at the Gallows, so she's asked if you could possibly talk to him."

"Me? Why would I be any more effective?"

"Because you were involved in the case he seems to be obsessed with?" She shrugged. "I don't know. I just know that the Knight-Commander is spitting mad, and she's the kind of woman who could make our lives miserable if she chose. So, go see Emeric tomorrow, please? At least we can say we did her a favor."

“Fine. I’ll go back to the Gallows tomorrow and see what he has to say.”

“Thank you.” Captain Vallen nodded - obviously a dismissal - so Cullen stood and left the office. 

His stomach did a turn at the idea of talking to Emeric again. The Captain and the Knight-Commander might think the old Templar was lyrium-addled, but Cullen knew that his instincts had been correct once before. The idea of the serial killer they’d possibly uncovered during that case haunted him as much as it obviously haunted Emeric - so he was curious to find out what Emeric believed. But, at the same time, he didn’t want to know; knowing might mean the discovery of another bag of body parts, or worse. 

But knowing was better than wondering, so he’d go see Emeric in the morning. And hopefully appease both of their superiors in the process.

*

_Cullen -_

_I just got back to Ansburg - temporarily, as it turns out, but more about that later. Weisshaupt was boring, as usual. I don’t understand why they refuse to enter the 21st century, but there’s no wi-fi to be had anywhere in the complex. They barely have a workable internal computer network. Walking through there is like visiting an office from a movie version of the 1960s. It’s so weird._

_So, I came home yesterday and checked my email, only to find a message from my sister. Which, as you know, is pretty rare these days. My mom’s turning 50 this year, and Marian is throwing her a party this weekend. She wants me to come._

_I know, I know, it shouldn’t even be a question, right? But I haven’t seen my family since before I joined the Wardens. It’s been really awkward. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that story, and it’s not really something I want to type out right now. Suffice to say, the circumstances surrounding my career choice were complicated and more than a little bitter. It’s going to be weird, seeing them again. But I can’t really say no, not without being a bigger bitch than I’m willing to be to my mom._

_Of course, the bright side is that I can cash in that raincheck for dinner. If you’re still interested, that is. I’m at the airport now, on my way to Kirkwall. Let me know!_

_Cheers,  
Bethany_

*

Bethany came home to a house she’d never been to. 

Well, that wasn’t strictly true. She’d sat outside once, nearly a year ago. But she’d never been closer than across the street before now, standing on the front porch. Tulips bloomed in pots on either side of the door; her mother’s work, she’d wager. Back when they lived in Gamlen’s house, Leandra brought small potted plants home from time to time - the florist down the street would give her the cast-offs, the plants too small or too wilted to be sold. Leandra brought them home and nursed them back to health, despite her brother’s grumblings. Now that she had her own house, of course there would be flowers everywhere. Bethany knew, from letters her mother wrote, that there would be an extensive garden in the backyard, full of color and life. 

She didn’t want to see it. Because while her mother could eke life out of the most pathetic flower, she had sent her younger daughter off to a death sentence.

That wasn’t fair. Her life wasn’t Leandra’s fault - her mother probably had no idea what the Wardens meant. The person Bethany blamed was the one who opened the door and stared at her for a long moment. “Beth?”

“Marian.” They stood there for another moment. “Are you going to let me in?”

“Yes! Yes, I mean …” Marian stood aside and held the door open. “I just didn’t expect you, is all.”

“You asked me to come.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t respond.” When Bethany was inside, Marian grabbed her into a hug. It took Bethany a moment to put her arms around her sister. “Beth. I missed you.”

She couldn’t bring herself to respond in kind. “Where’s mom?” she asked, pulling away.

“Right now? She’s out. Apparently, she had a lunch date.”

“What?” She’d been counting on her mother to be there - to be a buffer between her and Marian. “A date?”

“Yeah.” Marian shrugged. “I don’t know. She hasn’t said anything to me about him, but Bodahn told me she had a ‘gentleman caller’ a few days ago, and now she went out to lunch with him.” 

Bodahn - Bethany had almost forgotten that her family now had an actual servant. Or, per her mother’s emails, Bodahn was technically their “personal assistant.” Bethany had to drag her laundry to a laundromat to get anything done when she was home, but her mother and sister had a man who would do theirs for them. She tried to quash the spark of bitterness that flared in her chest. “When will she be home?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t even know she was gone until I came downstairs for breakfast.”

Of course Marian’s breakfast would be her mother’s lunchtime - for Marian, three in the morning was an early night. It was common, back when Bethany was running with her sister and friends, to see the sunrise before they let themselves back into Gamlen’s house. 

The sisters stood there awkwardly for a minute, Bethany with her suitcase by her feet, Marian with bare feet and uncombed hair. “How have you been?” Bethany finally asked.

“Good. You?”

“Okay.” Bethany looked around. “Can I put my suitcase somewhere?”

“Oh! Sorry, yeah, I’ll show you upstairs.”

Marian led her to a room with a daybed and portraits of flowers on the walls. “This is your room. At least, that’s what Mom’s been calling it since she finished decorating it.”

It didn’t look like a room Bethany would choose for herself. It looked like her mother’s idea of a guest room. “Okay. Thanks.”

Marian stood in the doorway while Bethany put her suitcase in the corner. Bethany wasn’t quite sure what to say. Should she ask what Marian had been doing lately? Make small talk? Maybe, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She’d just hear about some grand adventure she and Varric and Isabela had, something fun and dangerous that ended in getting blitzed at the Hanged Man … and Bethany missed that. Missed the camaraderie, the people. She had friends in the Wardens, sure, but their job kept them on the road more often than not. She didn’t get to hang out with the people she knew very often. 

The Warden life was a lonely life. But Marian had wanted it for her sister. She’d wanted Bethany out of the way. 

“Mom should be home in time for dinner,” Marian said. “We can all go out.”

“I have dinner plans,” Bethany said. She didn’t, not yet, but she was hoping. 

“Dinner? With who?”

“Someone I worked a case with.” Cullen. Who hadn’t responded to her email yet, the last time she’d checked her phone. Maybe he wouldn’t be available tonight. Bethany felt a pang of disappointment at the idea. Then, another pang - this time guilt, for wanting to see a relative stranger more than her own sister. 

“Oh.” Marian shrugged. “Maybe you could come out with us later. You know, to the Hanged Man? Most of the usual suspects will be there. I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

Part of Bethany really wanted to see her sister’s friends. Especially Isabela, the only person who ever emailed her any more. And Varric, who always told the best stories. Maybe, if she went to the Hanged Man, she could sit at a table and drink bad beer and forget, just for a little while, that she’d ever left Kirkwall. It could be like old times. 

The problem was, it wasn’t old times. And never would be again. “Maybe,” Bethany murmured. 

Before either of them were forced to say anything else, Bethany heard the door open and close downstairs. “I’m home!” her mother called cheerfully.

When Bethany appeared on the stairs, Leandra put a hand over her mouth. “Oh. Oh!” She nearly tripped in her haste to get to her younger daughter. Bethany found herself pulled into a tight embrace; she could feel her mother’s tears against her temple. Her own eyes were suspiciously wet. “Oh, Beth, you’re here. You’re home.”

“Hi, Mom.” Bethany rested her chin against her mother’s head. “I missed you,” she whispered.

“Oh, baby, I missed you so much.” Leandra pulled back. “I didn’t know you were coming. Why didn’t I know you were coming?”

“Happy birthday?” she responded, smiling.

“Indeed!” Leandra turned to Marian. “Was this your doing?”

Bethany felt a sharp jab of jealousy. Of course, everything was Marian’s doing. “Yeah,” Marian said, grinning. “I asked her to come.” Which was true, but still - it all revolved around her, didn’t it? 

“Come on,” Leandra said, tugging on Bethany’s hand, “come sit and talk with me. I want to hear everything you’re doing.”

Bethany went. She’d tell her mother what details she could about cases. She’d tell her about seeing Shakespeare productions in Orlais and watching the sun set over the Anderfels. Those stories made her life sound great - made it sound like the Wardens were the right decision. There was no use making Leandra feel bad around her birthday. No use talking about nightmares and darkspawn and aching loneliness. 

She glanced back at Marian, who trailed them into the living room. No, her life wasn’t her mother’s fault. Bethany knew exactly who to blame for her current situation.

Herself.


	2. Chapter 2

_Cullen -_

_Hey, I'm in Kirkwall. I desperately need an escape from my family. You free for dinner tonight?_

_Beth_

_Beth -_

_Absolutely. Meet me at Sundermount Cafe at 6?_

_\- C_

*

When Cullen arrived at the restaurant, Bethany was already ensconced in one of the back booths, a half-empty glass of wine in front of her. “Started without me, I see,” he said as he slid into the booth.

He was rewarded with a bright, if tired smile. “It’s been a long day.” Before he could debate whether or not to hug her in greeting, she leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "Thanks for coming. I needed the distraction."

Part of him wanted to grab her and kiss her properly, but ... they weren't there yet, were they? He hadn't even seen her in person since that long, insane day in Darktown, almost a year earlier. Email made him feel like he knew her intimately, but did that translate back into real life? "Family problems?" he asked.

"Just the usual sort." She sighed. "There's a reason I don't come home very often ... or, at all, really."

"Want to talk about it?"

Bethany was silent for a few minutes - the waiter came up to take their order, and she just smiled and nodded at Cullen when he gave her a questioning look. So, he ordered for both of them, then sat back in the booth and waited. Finally, she drew one leg up underneath her and sighed again. "My sister and I - we don't really have a relationship at this point. We haven't, not since I became a Warden."

"Why not?"

"She ... well, she pushed me into becoming a Warden. Kind of. She made a lot of very strong suggestions, anyway. And very few people can resist Marian's strong suggestions." She took a sip of her wine. "I spent most of my life, prior to the Wardens, living in Marian's shadow. It's a big place, easy to get lost there. At least, it was for me. But I was hiding to begin with, trying to stay under the Chantry's radar ever since I came into my magic. For a long time, Marian's giant personality was to my advantage."

Cullen had looked into Marian Hawke, after Bethany left town. She appeared in more case files than he'd really expected, given that the woman was friends with Captain Vallen. But the Captain had too much integrity to completely erase her friend from police files, it seemed, because the computer spat out a dozen different times in which Marian Hawke had been questioned in relation to a crime. In only a couple of those times, though, was she ever a criminal suspect - other times, she'd simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and occasionally had helped a couple of departments out with their investigations. None of the reports had ever mentioned Bethany, though. Marian - and the Captain - must have been very good at keeping her out of the spotlight.

He'd even seen Marian Hawke a couple of times - from afar, on the rare occasions he and his NA sponsor went to the Hanged Man for drinks. She looked like Bethany, in a lot of ways; dark hair, pale skin, delicate features. But Marian moved in a much more casual way. Bethany was guarded; she moved as if she held a secret inside of her. Marian Hawke seemed to be an open book - or projected that image well. She was loud, boisterous, the sort of woman who would buy a round for the house and know every name at every table. Bethany might know everyone in the room, he thought, but she'd show it by a small smile and a quiet greeting. She didn't court the same kind of attention her sister seemed to.

"But she must have gotten tired of hiding me," Bethany continued, after finishing off her wine glass. "One day, she got on the computer and showed me the Wardens' recruitment website. 'It's perfect for you,' she said, though I don't know how she figured that. All I ever wanted was a quiet life, a normal life. The Wardens are anything but normal. But, I suppose I was never meant to have a normal life, was I?"

"You didn't want to join the Wardens?"

"No, not really. I told Marian she was crazy, but she kept at it. Eventually, she got Mom involved, too. It felt like ..." She looked down at the table. "Well, it really wasn't fair to ask them to keep up the charade forever, I know. And people who shelter apostates in Kirkwall get really harsh sentences. So my very existence was putting them in danger. I can't really blame them for wanting me out of the way."

"But you do."

"Yeah, I do. Is that horrible?"

"I don't think so," Cullen said slowly. "I can't tell you I know how it feels, because I never knew my family, but I imagine it has to hurt to think they want to get rid of you."

"That's exactly it. It wasn't like I hadn't been thinking ..." She looked up at Cullen. "I was going to turn myself in. Go to the Chantry, get a tattoo, get it over with. I had it all justified. It wasn't like I was able to get a real job in Kirkwall anyway, and Mom was in the middle of her legal battle to get her family's home back, so I expected I'd have a place to live. My life wouldn't have changed that much, if I'd just become a legal mage. At least, I'd almost convinced myself of it, before my sister started in on the Warden stuff. When my mom got involved," Bethany said, leaning back in her seat, "it suddenly seemed like I wouldn't be welcome in my own house any more."

"I'm sure that wasn't true."

"I know," she said, but she didn't sound convinced. "But it still hurt. I joined the Wardens because it seemed better than hanging around and feeling unwanted." 

"You could have gone to the Gallows," Cullen said.

Bethany made a face. "Yeah, even back then, before I'd been inside, it felt weird to me. And I didn't want to be stuck inside one place for the rest of my life. Getting a pass to leave the Gallows once you live there is a bitch. We'd helped - well, we encountered some runaways from the Gallows in our work with the Red Iron, and I heard all about how hard it was to live there. I didn't want that."

Cullen couldn't fault her for that. He'd felt differently, back at Kinloch Hold - had Uldred and the war not happened, he might have been perfectly content to stay there for the rest of his life. But now that he'd been out of the Circle for a number of years, he couldn't imagine going back and never leaving. Having someone else control your every move. "The Templars don't have much more autonomy," he said. 

"Huh. I never thought about that." 

Their dinner arrived, and they lapsed into silence for a few minutes. Finally, Cullen spoke. “So, guess who I have to go talk to tomorrow?”

“Who?”

“Emeric.” When Bethany raised an eyebrow at him, he continued. “He’s apparently still trying to figure out who killed Mharen and Ninette. Captain Vallen says he’s been harassing some guy he suspects, and the Knight-Commander wants someone to talk him down. I’ve been elected, I guess.”

“He was right once before. Do you think he might be again?”

“I don’t know, I don’t even know who he’s harassing or why. I’m curious, though.” He looked over at her. “Do you want to come with me?”

She nodded immediately, giving him a small smile. “I’d love to. I haven’t been able to forget about that one.”

“Me either.” 

“My commander says they’ve been keeping tabs on the homicide investigation, but no leads have panned out.”

“You know more than I do, then. The homicide detectives don’t share much with me, other than ‘the investigation is ongoing.’” Cullen shrugged. “I do wonder why the Knight-Commander didn’t send Emeric to them.”

“Maybe he already went to them. Maybe this is a lead they’ve already eliminated.”

“It’s possible. But …” He tapped his fork on his plate. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Any reason?”

“Not really. Just my gut.”

Bethany nodded. “We’ll go over there tomorrow and see what he has to say.”

There was a certain amount of relief in knowing that Bethany would go with him to see Emeric. It felt like this case belonged to both of them - like he would be out of his depth without her. Which was crazy, as he was an experienced detective who could certainly close a case without a Warden’s help. But this one … this one required both of them. He just knew it.

They stuck to lighter topics of conversation for the rest of dinner - movies, music, tales of people they knew in and out of Kirkwall. “And so,” Bethany concluded a story, “Varric looked the guy dead in the eye and said ‘well, don’t just stand there, you wanna join in?’” 

Cullen joined in her laughter. “You lived an interesting life while you were here.”

“That’s one word for it.” 

“Do you keep in contact with any of them? Your sister’s friends?”

“Sometimes. Varric used to email me with his short story drafts, I gave him feedback. And Isabela loves sending me to the most explicit porn sites she can find. I think she thinks I’m still a blushing virgin.” She laughed again. “But she can still shock me sometimes. There was this one site about people in full-body sweaters …it was so weird. I can never unsee it.”

“Sweaters?”

“You don’t want to know. Trust me.”

"I think I believe you." Listening to Bethany talk about porn had an uncomfortable effect on Cullen. Her full-throated laugh stirred his blood; when the laughter died, she bit her lip and held his gaze just long enough to make him shift in his seat. A blushing virgin? Not likely. She held herself like a woman fully in touch with her own sexuality, and Cullen … well, he just _wanted_. There was still a small part of his brain that said ,i >mage, beware, but the larger part of him just saw Bethany, a woman with brains and beauty and a smile that could light up the whole restaurant. One who seemed to be sending him signals - signals he really wanted to return. On a whim, he reached across the table and grasped her hand. He swiped his thumb across her soft skin, and she let out an almost imperceptible sigh. 

The waiter appeared at Cullen’s elbow. “Excuse me, do you need anything else?”

Cullen withdrew his hand. Bethany shook her head, and Cullen said, “No, thank you, I think we’re fine.”

After the waiter disappeared again, Bethany took a deep breath. “You know what?” she said. “I really don’t want to go home.”

“It’s still early yet.”

“Yeah.” She looked down at the table for a moment, then back up at Cullen. “I had an invitation to go out with my sister and her friends after dinner, but … I’d rather stay with you. If that’s all right?”

“Of course it is.” He’d stay here at this table all night if she asked. 

“Would it be …” She paused, a flush staining her cheeks. “Would it be too forward to invite myself over to your place?”

He caught his breath. “No,” he managed to say, his voice little more than a rasp. She had to lean forward to hear him. “No, I think that would be just fine.”

Cullen had always wondered what it felt like when someone said their heart ‘skipped a beat.’ It must, he thought now, be the peculiar sensation he felt in his chest when Bethany licked her lips and smiled. He fumbled around in his pocket. “He hasn’t given us the check yet,” Bethany pointed out when he pulled out his wallet. 

“Oh, right.” He started to look around for the waiter, and Bethany laughed. “Would you like to stay for dessert?” he asked.

“Oh no. I’m more than ready to get out of here.”

So was Cullen, most definitely.

*

There was a moment, after arriving at Cullen’s apartment, when Bethany panicked. What had she done? She hadn’t intended to proposition him when she began the evening - was this even wise? What would happen to their working relationship? Did he still feel at all weird about her being a mage, because sleeping with a former Templar felt a little weird to her. 

_Oh, for fuck’s sake, Beth, shut up_. To silence her hyperactive brain, she turned to Cullen, grabbed a handful of his shirt, and kissed him.

He countered by pushing her against the nearest wall. Oh, yes - this was what she wanted. The feeling of his body, hot and hard against hers, driving away any rational thought. And his tongue, and the things it was doing inside her mouth. The voices in her head went away, or at least found a deep, dark place to hide. That’s what she needed. Silence. The ability to not think, but to simply feel. 

When she put her arms around his neck, he slid his hands down to her ass and lifted her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist. When she wriggled against him, he groaned, taking his mouth off of hers. She nearly whined, but then his lips were skimming her jaw, and she leaned her head against the wall to give him access to her throat. If only she weren’t wearing jeans - if she were in a skirt, how easy would it be for him to just take her like this, hard and fast? She wanted to reach down and unbutton his jeans, to slip her hand inside and feel his cock in her hand. But she wasn’t sure she could balance without keeping their hips pressed firmly together, so she had to content herself with rocking just enough to make him thrust up against her. It was the motion she wanted, but there were still too many layers between them. 

Cullen’s teeth grazed the sensitive skin on her neck. “Oh, yes,” she moaned. 

Suddenly, the warmth of his mouth was gone, and she was sliding down the wall and back onto her feet. Bethany held herself against the wall to steady herself. “Bethany,” he said, voice rough.

“Don’t stop.” Her hands wandered to his waistband.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, as she played with the top button of his jeans. “Bed. There’s …” He trailed off and closed his eyes when she ran her finger lightly over his clothed groin. “A bed,” he finished softly. “Right down the hall.” 

A bed sounded nice, but there was something about this - about doing obscene things with him in his living room - that she wanted. “Maybe later,” she murmured, and slid to her knees.

When she looked up at him, he blinked rapidly. “Maker...” he said, his hand automatically tangling in her hair. “You don’t have to …”

“I want to.” And she did. She wanted that wild look in his eyes, the heavy breathing as she set to work unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down his hips. She wanted the incoherent moan he let out when she wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock and ran her tongue lightly across the tip. She wanted the weight of him in her mouth, the salty taste at the back of her throat when she went as far down as she could. She wanted her name on his lips, like a quiet prayer, as he leaned one arm on the wall behind her. His other hand stayed lightly on her head, following the motion as she bobbed up and down. 

After a couple of minutes, the hand in her hair tightened. “Stop,” he said. “Andraste’s ass, you have to stop, or this is going to be over way too soon.” 

Bethany pulled off and smiled up at him. “Fine by me. I need you to touch me.”

Once, not so very long ago, a younger Bethany would have been shocked by how aggressive she seemed. But this Bethany - older, maybe not quite wiser, but more experienced - knew the value of asking for exactly what she wanted. So now, she pulled her shirt and bra off, and made an encouraging noise when Cullen brought his hands up to cup her breasts. He was gentle at first - too gentle, only brushing his fingers lightly across her nipples as he explored. “More,” she said, putting her hands on his and pressing them into her flesh. He hesitated, but then took a nipple and rolled it firmly between his fingers. Bethany sighed. “Yes. Like that.”

She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes while he played with her breasts; after a bit, she felt a breath of hot air across her skin just before his mouth closed over her nipple. She barely got the chance to feel his tongue against the sensitive flesh before it was gone. She opened her eyes to find Cullen chuckling. “We need a better position. Bending like that hurts my neck.”

Bethany started to laugh, and pushed at his chest. “There’s a couch right behind you.”

Before they hit the couch, Bethany stripped off the rest of her clothing. She ended up straddling Cullen’s lap. “Is that better?”

“Mmmmm.” She rose up a little bit so that her breasts were almost even with his face, and he responded by running the tip of his tongue around a nipple. “Much.” 

They stayed like that for a while - Cullen divided his time between her breasts, throat, and mouth, enveloping her in tantalizing warmth. He held her close enough that she couldn’t reach between them, so all she could do was hold onto the back of the couch and murmur encouragement. It felt too good when he teasingly bit the skin underneath one breast, then soothed it with a warm tongue. He eventually got up the nerve to use his teeth lightly on her nipple, causing her to moan loudly. “Maker, please, do that again.”

“You like that?”

“Obviously.” When he repeated the action on the other side, she buried a hand in his hair to hold him close. 

After a few more minutes, Bethany pulled back and tugged at his shirt. “Why are you still dressed?”

“I got distracted.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be.” His cock was still out, now hard - if she moved her hips just enough, he brushed against the damp curls between her legs. So close to where she wanted it … if she wanted, she could impale herself and ride him just like this, with his jeans chafing against the inside of her thighs. But she wanted more skin - and, she realized, she wanted to be fucked, to have him be the one pounding inside of her. 

She climbed off his lap, onto already shaky legs. Cullen immediately stood and began to discard his clothing. “From behind?” she asked quietly, suddenly feeling a bit shy. 

He nodded. “If that’s what you want.” 

Bethany turned around and put one knee up on the couch. Before she could bend over, Cullen wrapped his arms around her and held her close. A hand trailed from her belly, down through her curls, until his fingers pressed against the one place she very desperately wanted to be touched. She groaned loudly when he rubbed gently. “And I didn’t even have to ask,” she said, leaning her head back to rest on his shoulder.

“I’ve done this before, you know.”

“Yeah, but there are guys -” She gasped when he hit the exact right spot. “Right there. Oh, fuck, right there.”

“If I do this -” He pressed harder, causing a tremor to play through her whole body - “will you not mention other guys again?”

“Yes. Yes. I mean no. I won’t … Maker, please don’t stop,” she begged. His laugh was more of a vibration against her, which melded with the tremors and blurred the line of where her body ended and his began. She was getting close, so tantalizingly close …

Suddenly, his hand was gone, and she nearly sobbed. When he let her go, she nearly collapsed onto the couch. “What …”

When she turned around, he was bent over, searching a pocket in his jeans. “Condom,” he said. “I almost forgot.”

“Oh, yeah.” She let out a shaky laugh. “Me too.” Which probably said something about her mental state, but she was determined not to let herself think right now. “Thanks for remembering.”

“Yeah.” 

She watched him as he pulled the condom out of his wallet. As he tore the foil package open, she turned back around and bent over, putting her hands on the arm of the couch. With one knee on the couch, she felt a cool breeze between her legs, which made her shudder until finally his hands were back on her hips. “Cullen,” she said, begging.

“Ready?”

“Yes. Please...” 

And then, he was inside her. She could have cried, it felt so good. When he moved, Bethany just chanted “harder, harder,” under her breath until he obliged. With every thrust, her mind shut down more, until there was nothing there but the feeling of his cock and his fingers as he slid his hand around to press against her. She wriggled until she was hitting his fingers just so. She closed her eyes and shuddered with each movement; a moment later, she exploded, convulsing and crying out wordlessly as her orgasm shot through her. 

As she came down, she felt boneless, as if she would collapse if Cullen weren’t gripping her hips hard enough to possibly leave bruises. It wasn’t long until he was coming as well, her name on his lips. “Bethany … oh, fuck, Bethany.” She could only smile down at the couch cushion at the desperate sound. 

After they were separated, as Cullen walked to the kitchen to dispose of the condom, Bethany sat down on the couch and crossed her arms around herself to ward off chills from her rapidly cooling skin. When he turned around and noticed her shiver, Cullen gestured down the hall. “Blankets on the bed, if you’re cold.”

She smiled. “I can’t stay the night.” She’d feel too guilty, spending that much time away from her mother and sister. Even if she’d rather be here. 

“That’s okay. Let’s just rest for a little while.”

They did a little more than rest, but late that night, Bethany left Cullen’s apartment feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

_Q -_

_My friend, your research is fascinating. If what you’re saying is even half true, you could be on the way to discovering a medical miracle. Wouldn’t it be great, if a mage could discover something doctors and researchers haven’t been able to figure out for centuries?_

_I’m sending the books you requested with a courier. Keep me posted on your progress - we have to correspond the old fashioned way, though, I fear. The Templars read all email that goes in and out of the Gallows. It’s much easier to find ways to slip physical notes out unnoticed. And I figure you’re not eager to bring that sort of attention to yourself._

_Stay safe, my friend. Let me know if you need anything else._

_-O_

*

The next morning came far too soon. Bethany rolled out of bed and groaned - she hurt all over, both head and … well, other parts of her body. “I’m not that out of shape,” she muttered, stretching some of the kinks out of her legs and hips. But, she had been a bit lazy at Weisshaupt. “Note to self: use the gym next time you’re there.”

Her mother was enjoyed a cup of coffee when Bethany wandered downstairs. Leandra smiled brightly at her appearance. “Good morning! You were out late.”

Bethany just grunted, zeroing in on the coffee pot. Mercifully, there was already an empty cup on the counter, so she didn’t have to go rooting around in the cabinets to find one. She poured herself a cup as her mother continued. “I thought we might go out today, you and me. Get some lunch, maybe go shopping.”

“I can’t.” Bethany took a deep gulp of coffee, then met her mother’s eyes, which were slowly dimming. Bethany cursed silently. “I’m sorry,” she continued. “There’s someone here I work with - he’s got something going with an old case we worked on, and he asked me to come with him on an interview today.”

“Oh.” Leandra looked down at her coffee mug. “There’s another Warden here?”

“Yes,” Bethany lied. It was easier than getting into the truth - that Bethany had once been here in Kirkwall without seeing her family. “I had dinner with him last night, he asked me then. I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Maybe later? I don’t think this interview should last too long. We might be able to do shopping and dinner.”

Leandra smiled at her. “I’d like that.”

She still felt guilty when she left the house, though. The whole point of this trip was to see her mother, and here she was, avoiding her. “Not avoiding,” Bethany said aloud in the car. “Working.” If she happened to be working with a man she’d had awesome sex with last night … well, her mother didn’t need to know that. Because it wasn’t important. Not even if Bethany felt a little flutter low in her belly when she saw Cullen leaning against his car, waiting for her outside the Gallows.

He smiled when she got out of the car. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She clutched her purse awkwardly. What was she expected to do now? Hug him? Kiss him? Pretend like last night never happened? 

Apparently, he’d decided on the third option, as he almost immediately turned away and started walking towards the Gallows entrance. “Captain Vallen gave me a pass, so we won’t have to check in with the Knight Commander when we go in. They must really want Emeric to be quiet if they’re giving us full access to the whole place.”

Bethany could feel the same magic she felt the last time she visited the Gallows as soon as she walked through the door. The feeling buzzed over her skin, making her vibrate enough that her teeth chattered softly. It felt much more intense - or, maybe, the feeling of Cullen walking next to her was intensifying the whole experience. Every time he brushed against her arm, she shivered. Finally, she pulled her jacket farther around her body and stepped away from him. When he looked at her, she flushed. “I can feel the magic in here,” she said. “It feels weird.”

As they passed through a large common room, a tall, thin elf with graying hair nodded at Cullen. “Lieutenant.”

“First Enchanter.” Cullen paused. “Have you seen a Templar named Emeric today?”

“Emeric? I think I saw him going into the chapel a little while ago.” He turned to Bethany. “Is this your partner?”

Bethany stuck out her hand. “Agent Bethany Hawke. Grey Wardens.”

“Oh - a Warden, eh? That’s unexpected. I’m Orsino,” he said, accepting her hand, “First Enchanter of the Kirkwall Circle.”

“Nice to meet you.” She hadn’t heard anything about Orsino, other than what little she’d gleaned from her days on the streets here in town - which was weird, now that she thought about it, as the Wardens were steeped enough in magic that she could probably name every other First Enchanter in Thedas, even if she’d never met them. But no one in the Wardens really spoke about Kirkwall, other than to say how weird it seemed to be. 

Orsino looked down at the tattoo on her wrist, then looked up and nodded. “A pleasure, Agent Hawke. I’d ask what brought you here, but I’m fairly sure you wouldn’t tell me.”

“We’re here as a favor to the Knight Commander,” Cullen said.

“Of course you are. Though,” he continued, still looking at Bethany, “it surprises me that she brought in a Warden, given their usual connections to magic.”

_She doesn’t know I’m here_ , Bethany thought, but knew better than to speak the words aloud. She remembered stories about a contentious relationship between the Knight Commander and the First Enchanter - at least, that was the word on the street several years ago. She had no proof, but the tone of Orsino’s words seemed to indicate she was right. Or, maybe he was just unhappy at having to answer to the Knight Commander simply for an accident of birth. Maker knew Bethany was bitter about the whole situation. Why wouldn’t Orsino be, as well? “It was a surprise to me, as well,” she said. 

“Well, I won’t keep you from your business. If it’s Emeric you seek, try the chapel first. Lieutenant, Agent.” Orsino gave them a shallow bow before walking away. 

They did, in fact, find Emeric in the Gallows’ small chapel - he knelt at a front bench, his head bowed over his hands. They stood a short distance back from him for a few minutes, not wanting to interrupt his prayers. But, when he didn’t move, Cullen finally cleared his throat. “Um. Ser Emeric?”

The Templar turned around, eyes wide. “Lieutenant? Agent Hawke? What are you doing here?”

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” Bethany asked. “We’d like a word with you.”

“Oh. Well, um, sure. I’m not exactly on duty today.” As they walked out of the chapel, Emeric elaborated. “The Knight Commander has me on suspension - or, well, not a technical suspension. But she’s given me an unexpected break from my duties, while she works out some issues.” Emeric sighed. “Which, I guess, is probably why you’re here.”

"I've heard," Cullen said, "that you've continued to investigate Mharen's death."

"I have." Emeric ushered them into a small room down the hall from the chapel. "Classroom," he explained. "The kids have a day off from school today, though." Bethany looked around - there were no desks in this room, but there were large plastic shields leaning against the far wall, and a locked container marked "lyrium" in the corner. A magical classroom, then. Bethany felt a small stab of envy. Not that she wanted to live here, but what would it have been like if she'd gotten to learn magic with a group of her peers? Make friends with other mages her own age? Have older mages other than her father to look up to? She wondered, not for the first time, if she would have been better off registering as a mage when she was a child. 

Emeric pulled a couple of chairs out of the near corner and shoved them at Bethany and Cullen. Bethany sat, but Cullen just shook his head and leaned against the wall. "I've been keeping my ear to the ground. I know the police are investigating," he continued, nodding at Cullen, "but I just couldn't sit by and do nothing."

"Mharen meant a lot to you," Bethany said quietly.

"Yes, she did." Sighing, Emeric sank down into the other chair. "It wasn't - we never ... but she was special to me. I spent a lot of time working the overnight guard shifts, and for a long time, I'd go to the cafeteria after my shift was done and eat breakfast with her. She knitted me socks for my birthday every year, always with some embarrassing design that I had to hide so the other guys wouldn't make fun of me. But I wear them anyway." He lifted his pant leg up just enough that Bethany could see a tiny pink bird decorating the side of his ankle. "I miss her," he said. "She deserved so much better." 

His hand balled into a fist and rested on his thigh. Bethany reached over and laid her hand over his. "She did."

After a moment, Cullen cleared his throat. "Tell us about this man, the one you suspect."

Emeric looked up at him. "His name is Gascard DuPuis - he's an Orlesian living in Hightown. Finding anything out about him was hard, he rarely leaves his house. But he was apparently a passing acquaintance of Ninette de Carrac, according to a bartender I know. They were seen having drinks together a time or two."

"A couple of drinks don't make him a murderer," Cullen pointed out.

"I know. But he also knew another missing woman - a Trina Theodore?"

Cullen blinked. "I know that name. A couple of my detectives are working the case. I wondered, for a minute, because she's the right age ... but the detectives think she ran away from her abusive husband, and I have no reason to think they're wrong."

"The same bartender saw her having drinks with Gascard just a few weeks before she disappeared."

"Why didn't you go to the homicide detectives with this?" Bethany asked. "Or missing persons?"

"I don't know. I guess I knew it was a flimsy connection. Ninette saw a lot of men at that bar, according to my friend. He didn't even think about the connection until later - and I asked him to keep quiet about it for a while."

"Why?" Cullen demanded.

"I wanted to be sure - well, more sure. And, I guess it's personal. If this man killed Mharen, I want to know for sure. I wanted to look him in the eye and know I had the right man." 

"That could be construed as interfering with an ongoing murder investigation, you know."

"I know, Lieutenant. I know." Emeric rubbed his face. "I think I got caught up in the whole thing. I wanted to do something, not just sit here and wonder."

"You're not a cop. You're not trained for this," Cullen said. "You could have come to me, at the very least. I would have helped."

"I didn't know if you were still interested in this case. I knew it wasn't yours any more." Emeric sighed. "But thank you. It's good to know you still care about Mharen and Ninette."

"Of course I do." 

"We both do," Bethany said. "But, what happened? You went to see him?"

Emeric nodded. "I thought I'd just ask about Mharen, use Ninette as an excuse. I told him the Templars were holding their own internal investigation into Mharen's death. He practically slammed the door in my face. I went back twice more." He shrugged, looking down at his lap. "I just had a bad feeling. I couldn't let it go. But he never answered the door for me."

Cullen scowled. Bethany shook her head at him before turning back to Emeric. "Gascard complained to the Knight Commander, didn't he?"

"The act of a guilty man, in some way. If he didn't have something to hide, why wouldn't he just confront me and tell me to go away? Why ignore me and go directly to my superior?"

_Because he's rich,_ Bethany thought, _and that's the way they operate_. Especially Orlesians. So many of the Orlesian upper class wouldn't deign to acknowledge someone they considered insignificant. And they loved to cause drama, so bothering the Knight Commander seemed exactly like something an Orlesian would do. But she said none of this aloud, because it wasn't what Emeric needed to hear. "We could go talk to him," she offered suddenly. When Cullen looked sharply at her, she shrugged. "He can't complain about a cop and a Warden going to ask him a few questions. We’ll just tell him we’re ‘clearing up the misunderstanding.’"

Slowly, Cullen nodded. "Yeah, that works."

"You believe me, then?" Emeric looked from Bethany to Cullen.

"I think you had good instincts before," Cullen responded. "About Mharen, and what happened to her. I'm willing to give your instincts another shot here."

"Thank you." Emeric slumped back into his chair. "Thank you. Maybe I'm wrong - maybe I've just misinterpreted everything. But I'll believe you if you come back and say there's nothing to it. I trust the two of you to do right by Mharen. And Ninette."

His trust warmed Bethany. She just hoped it wasn’t misplaced. “We’ll do our best.”

“That’s all I can ask.”

They left Emeric sitting in a chair too small for him, staring at the wall and tapping a finger on his knee. Bethany felt for him. It was hard, to lose someone you cared about. “He deserves answers,” she murmured as they walked back down the hall.

“We all do,” Cullen said.

“True. But this isn’t personal for either one of us. I’ve lost family before, I know how devastating it is when suddenly, someone you care deeply for isn’t there anymore. He loved Mharen.”

“Yeah.” 

Bethany thought of her father - and her twin brother, gone long enough now that she had trouble remembering what his voice sounded like. She wondered how long it would be before Mharen started to fade from Emeric’s mind, how long it would take before those breakfasts were just a distant memory. This man - this killer, whoever he was, took those things away from him. Just as that creature had taken pieces of her twin away from her.

It was good that she was here, Bethany thought. Maybe she could help give Emeric the kind of closure she’d never had.


	4. Chapter 4

_Gascard,_

_Thank you kindly for your last shipment. It arrived in almost perfect condition. The requested payment is on its way. Please use the artifact with care. The creatures can be difficult to control, even for an experienced mage._

_A pleasure doing business,  
Your friend_

*

"You know what?" Cullen pointed his phone at Bethany as he walked back out of the precinct. "Brennan and Donnic actually interviewed DuPuis about Trina Theodore. He's one of the people who convinced them that she'd just run away from her asshole husband. Said he shopped at the same grocery store as her, invited her out for drinks after he saw her with bruises on her face one too many times. Which meshed with what some of Trina's friends said, and Emeric's bartender. They thought briefly about whether the asshole killed her, but Trina's best friend told them she'd been investigating how to change your identity. Everything pointed toward Trina disappearing of her own accord."

"And Ninette?"

Cullen shrugged. "I had no idea about DuPuis. We had no indication she'd ever frequented that bar - we knew about the Blooming Rose, and a dive bar down in Lowtown, but not this fancy place. I don't know why."

"If you didn't know any of the men she met there, how could you? Ghyslain obviously didn't know about a lot of his wife's social habits."

"I don't know. It feels like a connection we should have made a while ago." He was kicking himself, to be honest. He'd been so focused on the idea of Ghyslain de Carrac as a killer, he'd apparently made some sloppy, rookie mistakes. Someone in Ninette's life had to know about The Hightown Grille, about who she met there and why. If he'd just poked a little deeper, asked the right questions ...

"Have the homicide detectives turned it up?"

"No, not that I could see."

"Then stop beating yourself up. Emeric found the connection by a sheer stroke of luck." Bethany gave him a half smile. "Maybe he should think about quitting the Templars and going into police work."

"He'd be good at it. He's probably too old to get off lyrium, though." Hard to imagine, Emeric's sharp mind turned fuzzy from lyrium addiction. But he had to be close, unless he joined the Templars later in life. "I should take him out for a drink sometime. He seems like a good guy."

"He does, doesn't he?" 

"So, DuPuis." Cullen gestured toward his car. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah. I called my mom, postponed our dinner plans." A shadow passed over Bethany's face, and she sighed. "I need to be in on this."

Of course she had plans with her family - that was why she was here, wasn't it? Cullen was just chasing a pipe dream, imagining her back in his bed again tonight, warm and enthusiastic in his arms. Maybe last night was just an anomaly. She needed comfort, he'd given it to her. Was the whole evening as simple as that? "Let's go, then," he said, more abruptly than he intended. Bethany looked sideways at him, but didn't comment before walking ahead of him to the car.

DuPuis lived in one of the most affluent parts of Hightown, the kind of neighborhood that still had smaller servant houses built in the backyard - complete with servants in residence. His estate, however, barely appeared to be occupied. The lawns were taken care of, but the front porch boasted several overgrown hanging plants, and the mailbox next to the door overflowed with unread mail. There was no car parked in the driveway, but that didn't say anything about whether DuPuis was there - the three-car garage was shut up tight, and could hold the man's car. "I bet he pays someone to mow the lawn," Bethany said.

"Of course he does. Do you think anyone in this part of town pushes a lawnmower?"

"My mom does," Bethany replied. "She loves gardening and yardwork, though. She doesn't trust anyone else to do it the way she wants it done, so she just mows everything herself. Apparently, one time, when my mom wasn't feeling well, Marian bribed a friend of hers to mow the lawn. He accidentally ran over the edge of the tulip bed, and Mom didn't speak to Marian for a week."

"Your mom sounds like an interesting lady."

"She is." Bethany sighed, turning toward the house. "We should go up and see if he's home." 

When they got to the front porch, Cullen frowned. “The door’s open.” He pushed lightly on the door with his fingertips - it swung open to reveal a marble-floored foyer. Cullen reached under his jacket and gripped the handle of his short sword. When Bethany looked at him, he shrugged. “I learned my lesson about swords versus guns the last time we worked together.”

They looked at each other for a long moment, but finally, Cullen stepped across the door’s threshhold. “Mr. DuPuis?” he called loudly. “Kirkwall PD. You’re door’s open. We’re coming in.”

There was no answer. Bethany followed him through the door, but paused at the table just inside. “Cullen,” she said softly. “This letter …”

Cullen turned to look - there was a letter face-up on the table, on top of another large pile of mail. It bore an official looking crest, one that seemed familiar. “It’s from the Starkhaven Circle,” Bethany said. She bent over to read the letter. “You have to see this,” she said a moment later.

Cullen looked over her shoulder.

_Mr. DuPuis,_

_This is in regards to your inquiry into missing mages. I would like to remind you that the duty of seeking out missing mages, if there were any to begin with, would fall to the templars of Starkhaven, not a civilian in Kirkwall._

_I would also like to take this opportunity to remind you that the Circle of the Magi, as a whole, does not welcome casual inquiries about the mages in its care._

_Thank you,  
First Enchanter Raddick_

“Missing mages?” Cullen asked, scratching his chin.

“There was a fire in Starkhaven last year. They had to move a lot of their mages to temporary homes elsewhere.”

“I remember that.”

“Well, they didn’t exactly advertise it, but some mages disappeared in the chaos. We had to visit First Enchanter Raddick for a case a few months back, and heard about it then.”

“Why does DuPuis care about missing mages?”

“If he’s our guy, he’s a mage himself. Maybe he’s checking to see if anyone’s missing one of his victims? Maybe he kidnapped one of the missing mages.”

“I don’t know. But this,” Cullen said, gesturing at the letter, “makes me think Emeric is on the right track.”

“Yeah.” 

To their left was a large doorway, leading into a large lofted room that, in any normal house, probably would have housed a television and accompanying furniture. This room, however, was practically bare, with only a chair in one corner and a table in the middle of the room. “What’s on the table?” Cullen asked, stepping forward into the room. He felt a puff of air across his face, and for a moment, his vision turned green. “What the hell was that?”

“Trap!” 

Cullen felt a blast of cold cross his back; he whirled around to see a frozen shade an arm’s length away, and Bethany calling more magic into her hands. He drew his sword. “What the fuck?”

“He booby-trapped his house!” Bethany turned to her other side, where two shades advanced on her. Cullen lunged forward to meet one of them, slashing at its arm as it reached for Bethany. He succeeded in getting its attention; it moved toward him and reached for his neck. 

He wasn’t fast enough to keep it from reaching him - the touch felt cold and slimy, like something was dripping down the side of his neck. Cullen shuddered and thrust his sword into the creature’s torso. It wasn’t a fully corporeal entity, so it felt a bit like sticking his sword into a pile of mud. But the sword - blessed by the Chantry - could damage the shade as no gun could, and it shrieked in its inhuman voice. Cullen twisted the sword and pulled upward, until he reached the thing’s head. It disappeared then, to return to the Fade or wherever it was such things came from. 

When he turned, Bethany’s shade was just disappearing as well. She rubbed her hands together, shivering. “So,” she said, taking a deep breath. “He’s definitely a mage.”

“You think?” Cullen didn’t sheathe his sword. “We should assume he has other traps laid out in here.”

“Yeah, we should.” Bethany looked over at the table in the middle of the room. Cullen followed her gaze. A knife lay in the middle of the table, and dark red stained one of the corner. “He’s a blood mage,” Bethany said.

“Looks like. He’s seeming more and more like our guy.” Cullen reached for his cell phone. “I should call for backup.”

“That’s a good idea.” 

A minute later, Cullen slid his phone back in his pocket. “They’ll be here in five to ten. We should wait.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, they heard a noise from upstairs. It was muffled, but it was definitely a voice. “That sounds like a woman,” Bethany said.

“Yeah, it does.” Cullen headed for the staircase. “So much for waiting.”

They ran up the stairs, which thankfully did not seem to be booby trapped the way the living room was. The muffled noises led them to the third door in the upstairs hallway. Cullen motioned for Bethany to step back. She nodded, and called a bit of magical energy into her hands. Cullen reached over and turned the doorknob. The door opened soundlessly.

Inside the room, a woman knelt on the floor; a man stood behind her, resting a hand on her head and staring at his intruders. “DuPuis?” Cullen guessed. “Let the woman go.”

“You! You’re … not who I expected.” DuPuis stepped backward. “This isn’t what it seems.”

The woman on the floor pitched forward. From the doorway, Cullen could see thin bandages on her wrists, with blood soaking through them. Cullen grabbed his gun from the holster and pointed it at DuPuis, letting the sword clatter to the floor. “Don’t move. Take it nice and easy, put your hands on your head.”

“I have a better idea,” Bethany said. She murmured something and made a swirling motion with her hand. Suddenly, DuPuis’s arms were plastered to his side, and he stood on his tiptoes. “Force magic,” she explained. “Useful for things like this.”

“I swear,” DuPuis said, “I didn’t do anything!”

“You dragged me here!” the woman shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You cut me!”

“Gascard DuPuis,” Cullen said, crossing the room to stand in front of the man, “you’re under arrest for kidnapping and assault, and for suspicion of murder.”

“Murder? No, no, no, you don’t understand …” 

Bethany knelt next to the woman, keeping one eye on DuPuis to maintain the spell. “Are you okay? What’s your name?”

“Alessa,” the woman sobbed. “He offered to help me … I didn’t know …”

“I told you,” DuPuis said, “I needed your blood to lure a murderer out of hiding! I’m not the killer! I swear!” 

“Oh yeah?” Cullen said. “You’re a blood mage, at the very least, which is against the law in Kirkwall.”

“I admit it, I used blood magic! I had to! There was no other way to find this man!”

“What man?”

“There’s a man. A murderer. You know about him, I know you do, otherwise that Templar wouldn’t have been bothering me about it. He’s killing women all over Kirkwall - he started in Starkhaven, several years ago. He killed my older sister. I’ve been looking for him ever since.”

Cullen stared at the man. “You’re trying to lure a murderer into your home?” 

“Yes. I want him to suffer. To pay for what he did.”

“What about what you did?” Bethany helped Alessa to her feet. “What you did to this poor woman?”

“I didn’t do very much. Just took some of her blood so I could track her if he took her.”

“And then what?” Cullen shook his head. “You expected him to know there was a woman here, to come and take her without wondering why she’d be in your house?”

DuPuis looked around the room wildly, as if searching for another excuse. “It would have worked!” was all he could come up with. 

With a sigh, Cullen began to read the man his rights. He unhooked his handcuffs from his belt and nodded at Bethany as he spoke. She nodded back and, with a wave of her hand, dismissed the force field holding DuPuis in place. When he was free, Cullen reached for his wrist - only to have DuPuis jerk away and push him headlong into the wall. He managed to turn slightly, so that his ear and the back edge of his skull bounced off the wood paneling. Through the spots in his eyes, he saw Bethany push Alessa toward the door. “Go!” she shouted, calling magic into her hands.

DuPuis rushed her before she could finish calling the spell. He grabbed her arm and tried to push her toward Cullen, but Bethany quickly twisted in his grasp and kicked out with one of her legs. She connected with his groin, and he released her, doubling over in pain. Bethany followed up by pushing him over onto the floor. Unfortunately, she pushed him right on top of a knife Cullen hadn’t noticed until it flashed underneath his falling body. “Beth -” he tried to warn her, but that was all he was able to say before DuPuis grabbed the knife and slashed his own hand.

Blood magic. Right. Cullen had nearly forgotten that part.

A moment later, two shades appeared between Cullen and Bethany. Cullen hauled himself to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw DuPuis run for the door. Cullen was torn - he wanted to catch DuPuis, but how could he leave Bethany alone with these creatures? He shoved his gun back into its holster and unsheathed his sword. When he advanced on the shades, however, he could see between them enough to see Bethany shake her head. “Go get him!” she shouted. “I’ve got this!” 

That was the only warning Cullen had before she called ice into her hands. He barely managed to dive out of the way before cold blasted the shades, freezing them solid for a few precious moments. He hesitated for a moment, but when Bethany pulled a dagger from the waistband of her jeans, he nodded and ran for the door. Two shades, apparently, were few enough that Bethany would be all right. He hoped.

Cullen raced down the stairs. Hopefully, he hadn’t hesitated long enough to let DuPuis get away. He skidded into the living room, only to be confronted by another shade. His sword lashed out, catching the shade in the head, and the thing disappeared almost instantly. _Lucky shot_ , he thought - and then he saw DuPuis racing into the kitchen. “Stop!”Cullen shouted. 

In the kitchen, Cullen found two doors - one was locked, but one stood wide open. Inside, stairs led down into a dark basement. Cullen could hear rattling noises coming from below. Why hadn’t DuPuis taken the opportunity to escape outside, which was clearly where the other door led? Why trap himself in the basement? He had a bad feeling about this, but there was no other option. He descended the stairs quickly, sword in hand.

The basement was cold, cold enough that Cullen shivered when he stepped off the stairs. It was an unfinished room, with dark red stains dotting the concrete floor. Cullen didn’t see DuPuis at first; he looked around the room, and noticed one rickety wooden door in the far corner. If DuPuis wasn’t in this open room, there was only one place he could be. 

The wooden door burst open, and out came a gnarled looking creature, surrounded by sickly brown smoke and possessing a bright, fevered gaze. A human gaze. DuPuis. He’d turned himself into an abomination. “Fuck me,” Cullen murmured, taking an instinctive step back. 

The DuPuis abomination launched itself at him, arms reaching out and magic trailing behind it like a cloak. Cullen threw his sword up. He barely managed to deflect the ball of energy that flew towards his head. He took a swing, but the abomination danced out of his reach. 

Cullen took a deep breath. He’d trained for this, long ago. The Templars had a specific course for killing an abomination - a mage who had invited a demon to not only share their body, but to take it over entirely. _The head_ , Cullen remembered, sliding sideways and looking for an opening. _Go for the head, beheading will take care of the problem._

The creature lunged for him again, this time knocking Cullen’s sword aside and blasting him with an icy shower that blinded Cullen for a moment. He stumbled backward, rubbing his face with one arm while keeping his sword raised with the other. His heart pounded. It was inevitable now - the DuPuis creature would attack now, and Cullen could only hope to remain alive through whatever spell it cast. Alive, and hopefully just strong enough to counter, once he could see again.

A second passed. The creature shrieked. Cullen tensed, but no attack came. When he brought his arm away from his face, he saw the outline of the abomination turned back toward the stairs. He scrubbed his eyes harder, and the world finally came back into focus. And there was Bethany, on the stairs, a fireball forming between her hands. Just as the abomination reached for her, she tossed the ball of flame, and the thing was set aflame. 

Cullen didn’t hesitate. Three large steps brought him to the creature. Flames darted outward, catching Cullen’s shirt and setting it alight. He ignored the searing pain and raised his sword. His first swing caught DuPuis in the neck, creating a large gouge and causing him to fall to the floor. Cullen followed, dropping to his knees and raising his sword above his head. The creature had just enough time to look up at Cullen - with DuPuis’s eyes, looking like a trapped animal - before Cullen brought the sword down and removed his head. 

Blood splattered all over his jeans - and onto Bethany’s shoes, as she approached. “Sorry,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I am now. You?”

“Fine.” But she put her hands on her knees and hung her head for a moment. “Shit. That was too close.”

Cullen couldn’t disagree. “But we got him.”

“We did.” Bethany looked back up. “Is he our serial killer?”

“He certainly seemed guilty enough.” But something didn’t feel quite right. “Not very good at hiding, though, was he?”

“No. Was he really the kind of guy who could kill for more than a year without attracting attention?”

“I don’t know.” Cullen used his shirt to clean the gore from his sword - what the hell, he was going to have to trash everything he was wearing anyway. “I really don’t know.”

Suddenly, Cullen heard the sound of feet pounding on the floor above. “Reinforcements?” Bethany asked. She was answered a moment later when a voice drifted down the stairs. “Lieutenant?”

“Down here,” Cullen called. 

He didn’t recognize the uniform that came downstairs. The man’s eyes widened when he saw the headless abomination on the floor. “Sorry it took us so long.”

“We got it. Call for a crime scene team, there’s a lot to process in this house.” 

“Did you see a woman out there, Officer?” Bethany asked. “Older woman, gray hair, bandages on her arms?”

The officer shook his head. “No one around here. We did a perimeter check.”

“She must have bolted,” Bethany said. “I can’t blame her.”

“We’ll need to find her,” Cullen said. “What was her name? Alessa?” When Bethany nodded, he sighed. “I wish we’d gotten a last name.”

“We were a little busy.”

“Yeah.” The woman had probably gone home. He couldn’t blame her. But her absence would make explaining this whole situation a little harder. Luckily, the fact that DuPuis had turned into an abomination would justify the fatal blow in and of itself. Still, having a witness to corroborate their story would have been nice. 

Cullen wondered what Captain Vallen would say about today’s adventure. He wondered what else they’d find when they searched this house - would they find evidence that any of the other missing women had been here? He wondered what the hell DuPuis had been thinking, bringing a woman to his house like this, especially when he knew he was under suspicion from at least one quarter. 

Most of all, he thought as he watched Bethany sit down on the stairs and put her face in her hands, he wondered if they’d caught their man. He had a bad feeling - a feeling that told him this wasn’t over.


	5. Chapter 5

_Dear Emeric -_

_We found some interesting things at Gascard DuPuis’s house. I think you’ll want to hear about them. This isn’t something we really want to take into the Gallows, so could you meet me and Cullen at the address below? We might find something there that will bring this case to a close, and you deserve to be in on it. We’ll be there at 9:00 tomorrow morning._

_Thank you - you’ve been a great help to us._

_Sincerely,  
Bethany Hawke_

*

It was late - after a normal person’s dinner time - by the time Bethany got home, but her mother was still waiting for her. “You could have eaten,” Bethany said. “I told you when I called that I didn’t know when I’d be home.”

“I wanted to eat with you. I haven’t had much of a chance to see you.” Leandra rose from her seat in front of the television. “There’s a diner around the corner, we can go there.”

Bethany allowed her mother to lead her to the car. What she really wanted to do was collapse into bed and sleep for a week. Andraste’s ass, but it had been a long day. Had they really only met with Emeric that morning? And then there was Gascard DuPuis, and all the briefings and paperwork that came from a death in the line of duty. She’d gotten off easier than Cullen, who had still been closeted in Aveline’s office when she left. When they sat down at their table in the diner, Bethany pulled out her phone to briefly tap out a text. _You okay?_

Across from her, Leandra began telling a story about her garden. Bethany could only half-focus on the conversation. She made what she hoped were encouraging noises at the right times, and grabbed the waiter’s arm when he came over to them. “Coffee,” she said. “Bring me a pot.”

“It’s late, Beth, are you sure you want to drink that much caffeine?”

“Mom, if you haven’t noticed, I’m about to face-plant into the table.”

“You do look tired.” Leandra’s eyes narrowed. “What happened out there today? You said you were just going on an interview.”

“It was supposed to just be an interview, but …” Bethany sighed. “It’s a long story. We ended up going after a suspect. It was complicated.”

“A suspect in what?”

“A series of murders. Don’t ask, it’s not dinner conversation.”

“Oh my.” Leandra blanched, and took a sip of her water. “Did you get him?”

“Yeah, we did. But it made for a long day.”

"I'm glad you got him, though." Leandra gave her a small smile. "I always knew you'd be good at whatever you decided to do with your life."

Bethany almost laughed. _Decided?_ Her decision to become a Warden hadn't been much of a choice at all, had it? Marian and Leandra made the decision, she'd just surrendered to the inevitable. "Thanks," she murmured, not looking at her mother.

There was an awkward pause. "So!" Leandra said brightly. "What have you been doing lately, outside of work?"

"Lately? Not too much. I've been working a lot."

"You have to be doing something fun. Do you go out with friends when you're at home?"

"Sometimes. Most of my friends are from the Wardens, though, and we're not always in town at the same time." 

"You haven't met anyone outside of the Wardens?"

"I work a lot, Mom. I don't have much time for a social life."

"You do have times when you're not working, though. You told me about that vacation you took to Orlais last year."

"I was already in Orlais for work. I just decided to stay for a week or so when the case was over." It had been one of the few times she'd gotten a significant amount of time off from the Wardens. She wandered Val Royeaux alone, visited the Chantry of Andraste, saw a couple of theater productions, ate some magnificent food. It was a lovely vacation, if a bit lonely. It would have been a lot more fun with someone to share the experience.

She immediately pictured Cullen in her head, but dismissed the thought. One night of sex did not a vacationing-type relationship make. 

Leandra sighed, as the waiter set plates down in front of them. "I just want you to be happy, Beth."

Bethany couldn’t stop her laugh - a bitter sound, one that made Leandra’s eyes widen. “Sorry,” Bethany muttered, looking away.

“No, what’s wrong?”

As Bethany opened her mouth to speak, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. “Hold on,” she told her mother. When she pulled the phone out of her pocket, she saw her text message notification flash. _I’m OK_ , the message read, _At home. how are you?_

She typed out a reply. _Been better. See you in the morning._ They’d decided to go back to the Gallows to tell Emeric about DuPuis’s death the next morning. But first, she had to survive this dinner. Hopefully, without offending her mother. “Sorry,” she apologized again, putting her phone away.

“Who was that?”

“Just a friend.” Cullen was that, at least, Bethany hoped. “So,” she continued, trying to sound cheerful, “how’s your garden coming?”

“No, don’t change the subject,” Leandra replied. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

“I don’t want to get into this, Mom. I’m here for your birthday. Let’s just talk about happy things, please?”

“That implies that you’re not happy.” Leandra leaned forward. “Please talk to me, Beth. I miss hearing about your life, good and bad. We don’t talk enough.”

Bethany sighed. “Phones and email exist, Mom. You don’t seem to use either very often, at least not to talk to me.”

“Oh, Beth. You know I’m no good at email.”

“You seem to be pretty good at Facebook, though, with all the garden pictures I see up there. Seriously, though. How often do you initiate contact with me? When’s the last time you called just to say hello?”

“I don’t ever know if you’re working or not. I don’t want to interrupt you.”

Bethany scrubbed a hand over her face. “I’d rather you interrupt me, Mom. That way I wouldn’t sit around and think about how much better off you and Marian are without me.”

“Bethany! That is not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Bethany jabbed her fork into her food with enough force to hit the plate underneath. “You guys were awfully eager to send me away to the Wardens.”

“What other option did you have? I didn’t want you to have to hide your whole life.”

“I could have turned myself in!” Bethany felt the hot sting of tears, and willed them not to fall. “I could have gotten this stupid tattoo and let the Templars watch me. I could have stayed at home.”

Leandra blinked. “That’s not the life your father wanted for you.”

“Well, he’s gone, and I should have been able to choose my own life.”

“I thought you did choose the Wardens!”

“There wasn’t much of a choice, was there? You two made it obvious that you were tired of hiding me.”

“Bethany Hawke, that is completely unfair.” Anger flashed in Leandra’s eyes. “We said nothing of the sort.”

“No, you’d never say it, but I can read between the lines.”

“There was nothing between the lines. We just wanted you to be free - to be happy.”

“The Wardens aren’t exactly a happy sort of organization, Mom. That was obvious even before I went through the … initiation.” Bethany sighed and looked down at her plate. “Listen, I could have said no. But then I’d just have remained a burden to you guys, and I didn’t want that.”

“You were never -”

“I was too, and you know it. But then I joined the Wardens, and I was so sad and scared and lonely, but every time I’d email or try to call you or Marian, you were always busy doing something else, talking about how wonderful your life was now that you had money. It felt …” Bethany swallowed the lump in her throat. “It felt like me leaving had freed you guys more than me. And I felt so alone.”

“Beth …” Leandra was crying now, tears dripping down unheeded onto her plate. She reached across the table and grabbed one of Bethany’s hands. “I never meant for you to feel that way. I miss you so much. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Bethany let her mother squeeze her hand. “Then talk to me sometimes, Mom,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Just talk to me.”

“I thought your sister was keeping up with you.”

Bethany snorted. “Marian? I’m lucky if I get an email a month. She’s more interested in telling jokes to her Twitter followers than talking to me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It sure seems that way.” Bethany withdrew her hand and wiped the dampness from her cheeks. “Marian’s life revolves around Marian, and only the people in her immediate orbit are of any interest to her.”

“That’s unfair, Bethany.”

“You keep saying that, but I can’t help the way things look to me.” Bethany stopped as the waiter came by to give them their bill. “Listen,” she said, suddenly tired, “can we save this for another time? It’s been a really long day.”

Leandra pursed her lips, but nodded as she wiped tears from her cheeks. “We will finish this conversation later.”

“Tomorrow, maybe,” Bethany said. “Just not now.”

The ride home was spent in awkward silence. Bethany wondered if she’d done the right thing, having that conversation. Everyone always said that it felt better to get things out in the open, but … _right now, I just feel a little sick._

*

The next morning found Cullen and Bethany back at the Gallows. Bethany looked worn out, sitting next to him in the car. “Are you okay?” Cullen asked, as they parked.

“I’m fine,” she said. “It’s nothing.”

Cullen doubted that, but if she didn’t want to talk about it, he couldn’t force her. He did, however, lay a hand on hers and squeeze. Bethany gave him a small smile, and squeezed back for an instant before pulling away. 

Inside the Gallows, Cullen approached a young Templar. “Excuse me, do you know where we can find Emeric?”

“I think he left. Hey, Moira,” the Templar called to a colleague, “didn’t Emeric go somewhere this morning?”

A female Templar came over to them. “Yeah, he did. He said he was going to meet the cop and the Warden he’s been talking to.”

Beside him, Cullen felt Bethany stiffen. He stepped closer to the Templar. “What?”

“He’s been meeting with this cop and a Warden about this whole thing he’s been obsessed with. I guess he got an email from one of them today, and went down to Lowtown to meet them.”

“But that’s us,” Bethany said. “We’re the ones who have been talking to him.”

“Are you sure?” Moira scratched her head. “Because he was pretty insistent.”

“Yeah, we’re sure.” Cullen felt a chill run down his spine. “Did he say where in Lowtown he was going?”

“He gave me the address - we’re never supposed to leave the Gallows without someone else knowing where we are.” 

Moira rattled off an address that Cullen didn’t immediately recognize, but when Bethany blanched, he knew it couldn’t be anywhere good. “That’s a rough neighborhood,” she said. “Not that Lowtown isn’t mostly rough, but that place is particularly bad.”

“Why in the world would he think we’d want to meet him there?”

“I don’t know.” Bethany tugged on Cullen’s arm. “We have to go. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Yeah, me too.” He looked at Moira. “Will you come with us?”

“If you can wait, I’ll need to clear it with the Knight-Commander.” 

Moira jogged off. Bethany shook her head. “I don’t think we can wait, not if the Knight-Commander is going to take any convincing.”

Cullen nodded. “Let’s go. They can follow us.”

They drove to Lowtown in silence. The closer they got to their destination, the more nervous Cullen became - streets of working-class people turned into the sorts of places that seemed deserted during the day, filled with grime and neglected trash dumpsters. “Why,” Cullen asked again, breaking the silence, “would he come here?”

“And why did he think it was us? If someone was able to fake an email from one of us …”

“That means whoever is responsible knows we’re on the case. They’ve been paying attention to what we’ve been doing. I don’t think that’s a good sign.”

They pulled up in front of an abandoned-looking building. “Is this it?” Cullen asked.

“This is the address Moira gave us.” Bethany’s hand went to the pouch at her waist, which Cullen knew held lyrium potions, in case magic was needed. Cullen reached under the seat of his car and pulled out his sword - after the day before, it just seemed prudent to keep it within reach. “Ready?” he asked Bethany.

“As I’ll ever be.” She took a deep breath. “Maybe we’ll find Emeric in there, waiting for us.”

“Maybe.” He was as doubtful as she sounded.

The front door to the building was unlocked - in fact, it barely hung on its hinges, and made a loud shrieking noise when Cullen pushed it open. “So much for sneaking up on anything,” Bethany said.

They’d barely made it five feet into the building when suddenly, the hall doorway in front of them appeared to be ablaze. The fire began to move toward them, and Cullen cursed. “Rage demon!”

Cullen now regretted not waiting for the Templars, who had skills for dealing with demons that Cullen had long since forgotten from his own training. He could only dive out of the way of the charging demon and thrust his sword in its direction as it passed. He heard the thing scream - he must have damaged it in some way - but its arm reached out and caught him in the side. His shirt burst into flames. He could feel the sharp heat on his skin, but before he could cry out, he was blasted with ice. 

He wondered, at the back of his mind as they fought, how he ever managed to fight a battle without a mage at his side. The answer, of course, was that he hadn't fought any battles with shades or demons since he left the Templars - being a cop usually meant nice, easy confrontations with people who carried guns and knives, not incorporeal creatures who couldn't be physically hurt unless you carried a blessed sword. He preferred real-world sorts of criminals; that's why he was better at being a cop than he was at being a Templar. But if he had to be here, facing down a rage demon, he was glad he had Bethany. He couldn't fool himself - if she hadn't been there, he likely wouldn't have survived even one of the conflicts they'd found themselves in. 

If he were still a Templar, he’d be more helpful in this situation. Now, he could only dance around the rage demon, occasionally swiping at it with his sword to distract the thing, while Bethany threw spell after spell at it. Suddenly, the demon disappeared into the floor. Bethany looked around frantically. "Where is it going to -"

The demon came back up right behind Bethany, wrapping one of its spindly arms around her neck. With a shout, Cullen charged at them. He was afraid, briefly, of stabbing Bethany with his outstretched sword, but at the last minute, she managed to extricate herself and drop to the floor just before the point of his sword pierced the demon's fiery skin. The thing howled, and disappeared again.

He and Bethany looked at each other. Cullen thought briefly about asking her for a vial of lyrium, but the face of his NA sponsor floated through his head. He'd survive without it. He had to. 

They stood back to back, Cullen brandishing his sword, as they waited for the demon to appear again. A moment later, Cullen heard a noise coming from the doorway. He looked over to see Moira and two other Templars standing there, staring at them. "Rage demon," he managed to warn them before the thing appeared right in front of them.

The Templars fought. Cullen was happy to let them - four swords against one demon would be too many, especially with a mage lending her support. So, he whirled around and scanned the room. Beyond a doorway behind him, he could see a pair of boots lying on the floor. With a sinking feeling, he dashed over to see who the boots were attached to.

It was as Cullen had feared. Emeric’s silvering hair was spotted with blood, and his neck bent at an impossible angle. “I’m sorry,” Cullen murmured, dropping to his knees beside the body. Their killer had done this - had used Cullen and Bethany’s names to lure Emeric to his death. “You bastard,” he said, to no one in particular. “You absolute bastard.”

A few minutes later, Bethany and the Templars joined him where he crouched over Emeric's body. "How the hell ..." Moira began, balling her hands into fists.

"Ambush," Cullen said, voice flat. "Someone set him up."

"Our killer set him up," Bethany corrected. "The killer wasn't DuPuis."

"No," Cullen agreed. "It wasn't.”

"But he was right," Moira said slowly. "There's a serial killer. Someone who killed Mharen." When Bethany and Cullen both nodded, she cursed. "We should have listened to him. Maybe this wouldn't have happened."

"It has to be a mage," one of the other Templars said, "if they called a demon. And they killed one of our own. This belongs to us."

Cullen wanted to snap at the man - _we've been working on this case longer, and where were you for the rest of it?_ \- but Bethany put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll take all the help we can get," she said, weariness evident in her voice. Silently (and reluctantly), Cullen acknowledged the truth of that statement. Emeric had been their best source of leads thus far, and now the man was dead. Dead because of them, in a roundabout sort of way. If he hadn't trusted them, hadn't wanted them to believe him so badly ... maybe he would still be alive.

He felt Bethany squeeze his shoulder, and wondered how many of those thoughts were running through her head. "We're going to get him," he murmured to the Templar's body. "I promise." It was a promise he intended to keep, no matter what the cost.


	6. Chapter 6

_O -_

_I have found the final piece - my work is almost finished. My friend, I wish you could be here, to see the moment of my triumph … or failure. But I can’t think like that. I’m too close. This has to work, or everything I’ve done will be for naught._

_I was going to wait, review my research a few more times, try to catch any potential errors. But my assistant made it necessary to push up my timeline. I will write again once the final experiment is done. Pray for me. This is everything I’ve dreamed of._

_\- Your friend_

They answered what seemed like a thousand questions to Bethany, once the homicide detectives arrived with the crime scene team. How had they known to come here? What was their connection with the victim? What could they tell them about the demon who supposedly killed Emeric? Why did they think this was connected to a serial killer? And why hadn’t they called for backup? “The templars were our backup,” Cullen answered the detective, exhaustion evident in his voice. “We knew they were on the way. And we didn’t know if Emeric would still be alive in here, and need our help.”

“I’m going to catch hell for this,” he told Bethany when they were finally allowed to leave the scene. “Captain Vallen was already mad at me for going into DuPuis’s house without backup.”

“Both of these things are on me, too, you know.”

“Yeah, but you don’t work for her.” Cullen flashed her a tired smile. “You want me to take you home now?”

Bethany thought for a moment as she climbed into the passenger seat of his car. Then, she looked sideways at him. “Depends. Whose home are you talking about?”

Maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe she should go home and be with her mother and sister, try to forget today had ever happened. But Bethany was tired, and felt more than a bit sick, and she couldn't bear facing her family right now, knowing she'd indirectly caused a good man's death. If they hadn't encouraged Emeric, if they'd only told him to stand down, maybe ... but really, could they have kept him from his investigation? He had a personal stake in the matter. And now, she felt a personal stake in this case - they'd damned well solve it, if only for Emeric's sake. He deserved no less.

Cullen shrugged, a small smile on his face. "It's entirely up to you."

She laid a hand over his. "Let's go home. I need the distraction."

He grasped her hand, and held it most of the way to his apartment. When they arrived, Bethany sighed and sat on the couch. "Are you hungry? Because I'm hungry."

"I could eat, yeah." Cullen moved to the kitchen. "Let me make something."

"We could always order in."

"I like cooking. It relaxes me." 

Bethany sat on the couch with her eyes closed, nearly dozing, until she smelled something delicious coming from the kitchen. It smelled good enough that she stirred herself and went to the kitchen. "What are you making?"

"Just some pasta with veggies, and a light pesto sauce. I hope that's okay."

"It smells delicious." She leaned against one of the counters. "Do you cook very often?"

"Not as often as I'd like." He looked away from her. "I don't really have anyone else to cook for."

Bethany let herself imagine, just for a moment, being able to come home from a Warden mission to a home-cooked meal. And Cullen. Maker, she thought, smiling to herself - how insane was it that she was fantasizing about a relationship with a former Templar? A year ago, she would have been horrified. Part of her thought she should still be horrified. But, this was Cullen, who had proved himself to be a genuinely good man, one who was willing to accept her as she was, even if he wasn't entirely comfortable with it. That was all she could ask for a relationship. Well, that and good sex. Which he could definitely provide.

She moved over to where he stood in front of the stove. She slipped an arm around his waist, intending to reach up and kiss him, but instead she found herself laying her head on his shoulder. Cullen put down the spoon he was using and drew her into an embrace. She rested her chin on his shoulder and relaxed into his body. It just felt good, at that moment, to be hugged. "Bethany," Cullen murmured against her hair. She just tightened her arms around him and closed her eyes.

When they finally let go, Cullen kissed her on the forehead. "You okay?" he asked.

"Not really. You?"

He gave her a wry smile. "Same. Maker ... poor Emeric."

"I wish we could have done something."

"We did everything we could." He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself, as well as Bethany. "We couldn't have known that asshole would lure him out ..."

"But why?" Bethany said, pacing across the kitchen. "Why did he have to kill Emeric? How did he even know that Emeric was involved?"

Cullen paused to stir the sauce. "Maybe," he suggested, "DuPuis was working with him. Emeric was harassing DuPuis. He could have mentioned him to an accomplice."

"Maybe. DuPuis was certainly doing something - we never profiled that there would be two killers, but maybe there were."

"Who is this guy?" Bethany could see Cullen's free hand clench into a fist on the countertop. "We're no closer to finding him now than we were a year ago. He could be a ghost, for all the leads we have."

Bethany wanted to reassure him, but she felt the same frustration. "We had to be close, with DuPuis. Otherwise, he wouldn't have considered Emeric a threat. Maybe we should go back to DuPuis's house, see if we can find anything."

"If they'll let us in. We're not officially working this case, remember?"

"We can make it happen. If necessary, I can throw Warden weight around."

“Must be nice.” He lifted the spoon from the sauce and held it out to Bethany. “Here, taste.”

She stepped closer and allowed him to slip the spoon into her mouth. When she pulled back, she gave an appreciative moan. “Oh, that’s good.” She looked up to see Cullen watching her, eyes half-closed. She smiled at him. 

He returned the smile, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, teasing her skin with his tongue. “You missed some,” he said, his breath warm against her cheek.

Bethany turned her head and brushed her lips against his. The kiss that followed was a slow slide of lips and tongues, with Cullen’s free hand caressing her arm and her fingers spread lightly on his chest. For a moment, it chased all thoughts of murder out of her head. Then, Cullen pulled back, sighing. “The sauce will burn.”

“Well, we can’t have that.” Bethany stepped back, but his warmth remained with her. 

Dinner was a quiet affair, as they sat at Cullen’s small dining room table. Bethany savored the home-cooked meal. “I’m usually a frozen dinner sort of girl,” she confessed.

“Have you at least gotten some real food while you’ve been home?”

“My mom doesn’t cook very much. Dad was the one who enjoyed the kitchen. Mom enjoys her flowers, and occasionally she’ll grow vegetables that she’ll cook. But otherwise, cooking isn’t her thing. None of us took after Dad in that way - Marian could burn water, and Carver would never have dreamed of doing anything in the kitchen other than raiding the fridge.”

“Carver?” Cullen asked.

Bethany blinked. “I’ve never told you about Carver?” When Cullen shook his head, she sighed. “I can’t believe it. I used to talk about him all the time, right after …” She put her fork down. “He was my twin brother. He died, before we came to Kirkwall.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. He was such a pain in the ass, you have no idea. He had a chip on his shoulder the size of Tevinter. He and Marian fought constantly. I always felt like I was trapped between them - I wanted to support my twin, but he was such an ass most of the time. Not that Marian was much better most of the time. But Carver was the kind of person who took everything as a personal insult. But he was my biggest protector, and my other half.” She looked down at the table. “It still feels like I’ve lost a limb sometimes.”

“I’m sorry,” Cullen repeated. He slid a hand across the table and put it on top of hers. “I wish I could have met him.”

“I think you two might have gotten along.” Bethany looked up and smiled. “At least, I think you’re the kind of person he might not have hated, which was sometimes all you could ask for out of Carver.” Her smile faded. “I stood over his body, like we stood over Emeric today. Another person I couldn’t save.”

“There was nothing we could do,” Cullen reminded her, squeezing her hand.

“I know. There was nothing I could do about Carver, either. It was the Blight, we were attacked by darkspawn. War has casualties, and Carver was one of them. But still … I hate it. I always hate it.”

“I know.” Cullen held her hand for a long minute. “I know. You just wish …”

“Yeah.”

Cullen didn’t try to say anything else comforting, for which Bethany was grateful. She’d passed the need for words - she needed something else now, something to distract her from the tragedy of the day. So, after all the dishes were cleaned up from dinner, she pulled Cullen to her and kissed him deeply. To her relief, he responded, cupping her face with his hands and letting his tongue tangle with hers. He tasted like garlic and wine, and his body was solid and comforting against hers. This was what she needed. Just him, no words.

He steered her back into the bedroom without breaking the kiss. When she pulled away, she noticed that the bed was far less cluttered than the last time she’d been in here. “You’re prepared this time,” she said, giggling.

“I’d hoped,” he replied, kissing her on the nose.

“Me too.” 

She began removing her clothing, enjoying the heat of his gaze as he stopped to watch. He made her feel like she was something special, like the scars Warden business had caused on her body had simply disappeared. She felt no self-consciousness this time, just a welcome sense of peace as she held out her hand to him. “Come on,” she said. “Your turn.”

He had his own scars, lining pieces of his skin like a secret map. When he stepped to her, she traced a thin white line on his shoulder, then pressed her lips to it. He shivered. “I love your body,” she murmured against his skin.

“The feeling is mutual.” His hands slid down her back to cup her buttocks. She snuggled closer to him, trailing her lips up to press kisses into his neck. “Mmmmm,” Cullen said, his voice little more than a sound at the back of his throat. 

They didn’t speak much after that. Soon, they were lying side by side on the bed, legs entangled, mouths connected, hands exploring warm flesh. Bethany shimmied her hips against his, enjoying the feeling when his cock began to come to life. Eventually, she pushed at his hip until he rolled over onto his back. She straddled him and bent over to kiss him lightly, while her hand shoved between their bodies and wrapped around him.

The way he arched against her drove all thought out of her mind - and that’s what she was after. She wanted oblivion. She wanted to forget everything that had happened that day, everything that might happen in the future. She wanted to forget Wardens and cops and death, lilies and blood mages and earnest Templars. For tonight, she wanted her entire world to come down to this bed and this man, and all the feelings she couldn’t express out loud. She didn’t want to think. She wanted to _feel_. 

Every time her thoughts started to bubble to the surface, she viciously shoved them away. She didn’t need them. What she needed was Cullen’s hands skimming her body, his mouth on her breasts, the muscles of his belly flexing underneath her touch. She needed his cock, sliding inside of her as she lowered herself onto him, the exquisite friction when she started to move. 

He thrust upward, and the world disappeared. It was only them, only everything Bethany wanted.

Later, as they lay next to each other, sweat-soaked skin cooling in the evening air, Cullen ran a finger down Bethany’s arm. “Hey.”

“Hmmm?”

“Will you stay tonight?” he asked softly.

She shouldn’t, she knew. She had family waiting for her, back at her sister’s house. She really should be the good daughter and go home, have breakfast with her mother in the morning, spend the day shopping or gardening or whatever Leandra wanted to do. But as she thought about her mother, Emeric’s face suddenly imposed itself on her brain, pale and lifeless. She shivered, pulling the blankets up to her shoulders. 

Emeric’s face faded, slowly transforming into Carver’s. Or what she remembered of Carver’s face, anyway. He seemed to be fading, the longer he was gone. That knowledge sat like lead in Bethany’s stomach. Someday, her other half would barely be a memory. And someone like Emeric, well, would he even rate a single brain cell in the future? Or would life just move on, erase him, delete his existence from her memory banks?

Suddenly, the idea of gardening and cheerful family chatter seemed too much to bear.

“Yes,” she said, moving so that she lay close enough to feel Cullen’s body heat. “I’ll stay.”

 

Bethany didn’t bother to hurry home the next morning. She’d sent her mother a text telling her she’d be out for the whole night, so no one there should be worrying about her. Let the tension at her sister’s house wait for a few hours - she wanted to enjoy a couple more hours with Cullen, on his day off, in the little bubble they’d created in his apartment. After breakfast, though, Cullen was the one who shattered the peace. “As much as I’d love to have you around all day, shouldn’t you check in at home? When is your mom’s party?”

“Not until Saturday,” she said, making a face. “But I suppose I should ask Marian if she needs any help. I don’t even know what she’s doing to plan it, or where it’s at, or anything.”

“Important details.”

“Yeah, yeah. I showed up in town, I should at least get credit for that.”

“I think you do.” He bent down to where she was sitting at his kitchen table and kissed the top of her head. "But you should probably earn a little more credit today."

"I guess." He was right, though, so Bethany said goodbye after helping him clean up the dishes from their meal. The real world awaited - the one in which she had to pretend that her family's life was compatible with her own. 

Her mother's car was gone from the driveway when she arrived at home. "Great," Bethany muttered. It was early enough - before noon - that her sister probably wasn't out of bed yet. "I should have stayed at Cullen's." Instead, it looked like she was spending quality time with her mother's personal assistant and his son, who would be the only people moving in the house.

Sure enough, she found Bodahn puttering around the living room when she walked in. "Ah, Miss Bethany!" he said, smiling when he saw her. "Your mother left a note for you in the kitchen, for when you arrived." 

"Thank you, Bodahn." It wasn't worth trying to get him to call her by her first name alone - she'd already tried four times, and he continued to call her "Miss Bethany" every time. It made her feel like the heroine of some historical novel. "How are you today?" she asked politely.

"Oh, doing well, doing well." He nodded. "Sandal's out back weeding the garden, and I'm trying to get things organized in case your mother decides to bring her gentleman friend home with her."

"Is she out with him again?"

"Yes ma'am. He called this morning and asked her to brunch. Sent a lovely bouquet of flowers, too. I haven't met him yet, but he seems like a nice man."

"Flowers? That's nice." Bethany remembered her parents playfully arguing once about whether her father had ever sent her mother flowers without being prompted. If her mother had found a man who would send her flowers for no particular reason, she could see why Leandra might be charmed.

"Oh yes. He sends them at least once a week, always the same bouquet. Leandra says he told her that the lilies remind him of her smile."

Something uneasy sparked in Bethany's brain. "Lilies?"

"Always white lilies. They're really lovely. This morning's batch are in the kitchen, with the note your mother left for you."

Bethany was in the kitchen before Bodahn could finish his statement. Sure enough, a vase of fragrant white lilies sat in the middle of the kitchen table, with a scrawled note laying in front of it. Bethany read it quickly. _Sorry I missed you this morning. I might not be home in time for lunch, but there should be plenty to eat in the fridge. Make sure your sister doesn't sleep all day, I heard her say something about having party shopping to do this afternoon. If I haven't told you lately, I'm really glad you're here. I love you._

"White lilies." Bethany swallowed the panic rising in her throat. "Bodahn!" she called. "When did he start sending flowers?"

"I don't know, as soon as they started dating, I suppose. That was a month or so ago."

"Do you know his name?"

"Quentin."

"Quentin," she murmured under her breath. "Did you ever hear his last name?"

"No, can't say that I have. I don't think your mother's mentioned it."

Bethany stared at the flowers. Names filtered into her brain. _Ninette. Mharen._ Ghyslain mentioned lilies. So did Emeric. White lilies for attractive older women, lonely women, women looking for something in their lives.

Women like Leandra.


End file.
